night the immense zest and intensity with which he played a game of
throwing an old pack of cards across the room into the grate--that it
was impossible to think that his condition was serious.

Indeed, I said good-bye to him when he went off, without the least
anticipation of evil. My real hope was that he would be told he had been
overdoing it, and ordered to rest; and a few days later, when I heard
that this was what the doctor advised, I wrote to him suggesting that he
should come and settle at Cambridge for a couple of months, do exactly
what he liked, and see as much or as little of people as he liked. It
seems that he showed this letter to one of the priests at Manchester,
and said, "There, that is what I call a real invitation--that is what I
shall do!"

Dr. Ross-Todd saw him, and told him that it was a neuralgic affection,
"false angina," and that his heart was sound, but that he must diminish
his work. He pleaded to be allowed to finish his imminent engagements;
the doctor said that he might do that, if he would put off all
subsequent ones. This was wisely done, in order to reassure him, as he
was an excitable though not a timid patient. He was at Hare Street for a
day or two, and his trusted servant, Mr. Reeman, tells me that he seemed
ill and out of spirits. The last words he said as he drove away, looking
round the lime-encircled lawn, were, "Ah! the leaves will all be gone
when I come home again."

He preached at Salford on October 4, and went to Ulverston on October 5,
where he conducted a mission. On October 10 he returned, and Canon
Sharrock says that he arrived in great pain, and had to move very
slowly. But he preached again on October 11, though he used none of the
familiar gestures, but stood still in the pulpit. He suffered much after